A Secret Protector
by docmuse
Summary: Titania has no last name. She has been passed from family to family, all former servants of the Dark Lord. But when a letter from Hogwarts arrives, giving her a vital mission, her life will never be the same.
1. Chapter 1

I've called so many people Mother, it's hard to name all of them. I didn't know some of their names, I was so little. I just remember them comforting me, and putting on their masks and playing with me. The masks didn't scare me, even though they were modeled after skulls. I liked how light reflected off them onto my crib, and chasing the light. When they shook their heads and walked away, I made one last grab at the light before it went with them, then gave up.

It's my birthday. June 1st. There will be no celebrations. The family I'm with now fell hard after Voldemort-yes, I say his name, why not?-perished. They're sure he died. They have moved on. Me, not so much. No, I don't believe Voldemort-the Dark Lord-is dead. I think he's waiting. Biding his time to strike.

No one even wishes me a Happy Birthday. This isn't that kind of household. It's not the cozy kind, the kind where laughter is common. It's the kind where everyone walks around, faces dour, where fun is a rarity. I'm not even sure I've ever had fun.

"Titiana! Mail for you!" Mother calls from the front hall. My footsteps echo on the black floors as I dash into the hallway, skidding almost into Mother. "Watch yourself," she scolds. I nod demurely. "Well, here's your mail." She hands a thick parchment paper envelope to me, addressed in green ink.

Titiana

Malfoy Mansion

Upstairs, First Bedroom on the Right

So, whoever sent the letter knew I had no last name officially. Right now I was Titiana Malfoy. A couple months ago I had been Titiana Goyle. That had been horrible.

I tore open the letter eagerly, unfolding another piece of parchment paper.

Dear Titiana,

You have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than the 31st of July.

Minerva McGonagall.

This all was typed up quite neatly, but there was a scrawled note below.

Titiana, I'm sure you know that you are no ordinary wizard. You are the only daughter of Sirius Black. You know as well as I that he is innocent, and you should be honored. But I am not writing to you to talk of parentage. There is a letter written by your father before he went to Askaban enclosed, which he asked to be delivered to you upon your acceptance into Hogwarts. Please read it discreetly, and then destroy it. It is to be shown to nobody.

Albus Dumbledore.

There was a second neatly folded piece of parchment paper behind the first letter, but I quickly dismissed this as the list of school supplies. Behind that, even, lay a torn piece of paper, stained with what I hoped was not blood. I unfolded it carefully, trying not to rip the delicate parchment. It read:

My dear daughter,

You are eleven now, and if you are reading this, you have been accepted into Hogwarts. Congratulations! But I have a mission for you, to be completed in the utmost secrecy.

You must know, as you have been passed into the care of my nearest relatives, who have likely been not eager to take you, and passed you about in their inner circle of Death Eaters, that Voldemort was defeated many years ago. This amazing defeat was by the hands of a young boy named Harry Potter. You may know of him, and that he is now nine years old. He will come to Hogwarts in two years, when you will be a third year.

Your mission is to protect him at all costs. It may be difficult, and I may be delusional, giving this task to one so young, but I have confidence in you. There will be many who will try to hurt him, and though he will almost definitely be a powerful wizard, even at the age of eleven, but you must protect him.

I am sorry that I have no time to make this letter longer, and I wish there was more time to explain, and tell you about so many things, but I must go. My trial is soon. They all know it is unnecessary, that I will be convicted, but I am innocent.

And one more thing. Your name is not Titania. Your name is not Titania Malfoy. Your name is not even Titania Black. Your name is Isla Nigellus Black.

Sirius Black

"What's that, dear?" Mother came over and peered over my shoulder. I stuffed the letter from my father back in the envelope.

I pulled the original crumpled letter out from under my arm, folding it over so that Mother wouldn't see the extra note from Professor Dumbledore.

"Oh, wonderful! You've been accepted, just like little Draco will be when he's old enough." I turned away and rolled my eyes. "Little Draco" was the meanest little boy I had ever met, pinching and screeching at me every time I even looked at him "the wrong way." Mother and Father had already bought him his wand, and he was learning how to use it. His tutor, Yaxley, had started out teaching him all the curses, jinxes, and hexes he knew, and this was not going well for me.

I sighed and went up to my room. It was painted black, and thirteen large stone ravens sat about the room, giving it an eerie look. I had gotten them for my tenth birthday, the only gift I received.

I sat on my bed, staring at the letter, which I had taken out. A tear dripped down my face. How could Dumbledore have kept this a secret from me for so long? I had a right to know!

But never mind that, I had a mission, and I was determined to accomplish it.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco had thrown a tantrum after Mother told him I was going to Hogwarts. "I want to come, Mother!" He whined. "Why can't I come?"

"Darling," Mother said, "You'll go when you're old enough, Draco." She turned to face me.

"You've already got your own wand, and Lucius can get everything else." I nodded solemnly, though it was hard with Draco making faces at me from behind her back. "Now then, go pack up!" She shooed me away and turned back to Draco, who immedietly assumed the look of an angel.

I rushed up to my room, where I had been practicing various hexes on a dummy I had created out of old clothes and my trunk. I had noticed that all my jinxes were more powerful when I imagined doing them on Draco. What a coincidence.

"Expelliarmus!" I said, and the old stick I was pretending was the wand of the dummy flew out of its hand and hit me in the face. I swore and picked up the stick. It had broken in half, and I attempted a Repairing Spell. "Reparo." The stick mended itself. "At least I can do household spells right," I muttered. Before the letter came, I'd thought I would become a wife to some Pureblooded bigot. Now I wasn't so sure. I didn't even know if I was Pureblood. So much was uncertain now. I was balancing on a pole of lies.

"Titiana! Come down here right now!" I started, and then went into action. I pushed the dummy into my mostly empty closet (despite Mothers dreams, I never had been much for clothes) and shoved my wand into the sheath at my waist, given to me by some Death Eater for my ninth birthday.

I sprinted down the stairs, mussing my hair uncontrollably. Mother stood at the bottom, along with a sullen Draco. "Little Draco says you hexed him," she said grimly. "Is this true?"

"No! I would never do such a thing to my little brother!" I smiled at Draco fondly.

Mother turned to him. "Draco, it is not dignified for a child of your upbringing and blood to lie about such trivial things. Apologize to your…sister right this moment!"

"Sorry, Titiana…" Draco looked down.

"That's better." Mother took Draco's hand and walked away with him, shooting me a suspicious glance. "Now Draco, let's go see Mr. Yaxley."

I sighed. Another punishment narrowly avoided. This happened near to every day. Draco would accuse me of something, and I would have to slither out of it. It was never true…usually.

"Ms. Titania?" A squeaky voice startled me out of my reverie. "Master wants to see you, you will please come with Dobby now, please."

"Oh!" I looked down and met the eyes of a scrawny house-elf. "Dobby! Yes, of course, I'll come." I followed him up a grand staircase in the ballroom into a large council chamber. Dobby was the only "Malfoy" who was kind to me, and I could guess that that was no order. He deserved better, the poor elf.

"Dobby will leave now, Master." Dobby shrunk out of the room.

"Yes. Leave us." Father had always scared me. He was imposing, and I knew he would not hesitate to hurt me if I damaged his pride, house, family, or beliefs. Practically anything.

"Now, Titiana, I needed to talk to you for a very…specific reason. You are going to Hogwarts." His voice was silken, filling the room. "You will realize that most…all of our family is in Slytherin, or once was. I will not say that this is required of you, I just say it is…preferred. If not…well then, I'm sure there are plenty of other families who are willing to take you in. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." I quivered.

"Leave me!" He swirled his dark robes about and seemed to disappear, leaving a swirl of black smoke behind him. I gulped and sprinted out of the council room.

I ran up to my room, almost knocking over Dobby. "Sorry!" I gasped at him.

"Mistress need not worry, Dobby is fine." Dobby picked himself up off the ground. He insisted on calling me Mistress, even though I was not officially a Malfoy.

I burst through the door to my room, breathing hard. I crashed into the the trunk which I had been packing, knocking half the contents out and swore. Trying to pick up the spilled clothing, I swept my wand about and cried to the empty room; "Wingardium leviosa!" One sock did a feeble flop into the air, but then fell to the ground. I swore again and resorted to manual picking-up-of-clothes.


	3. Interlude One

Sirius Black had not seen the sun in a long time. He had not seen anything happy for a long time. He had never felt so sad, so defeated.

He remembered the countless pranks he and James had pulled. James…now dead and gone. But he hoped, and wished that his best friend's child, Harry, would survive. He had helped, hadn't he? Sirius decided that he had helped.

It felt as if something important had happened a little while ago, or perhaps. There was only a faint sense of time in Askaban. Was that where he was? Sirius didn't know, he was lost. Lost in time and space. _Kill me now_, he thought wearily.

A black, dark presence passed by his cell- was it a cell, or was it just his room at Grimmauld Place, had Mother cursed him?-and Sirius slumped into the corner. There were lots of spiders here in Askaban, but their webs had only kept him warm in the winter. His room was near the outside of the prison, and while it was almost always deathly cold, he occasionally received a breath of spray through the window slit in wall, too high for him to reach.

Sirius was going to die there, he was sure of it. Die without seeing the sun ever again. That was a sad thought. Die without ever seeing…what else did he miss? What else was torn out of his heart? Suddenly, he remembered something. A tiny bundle…in pink, though he had always hated the color. She had insisted on it, his…his wife? He had a wife? This was new, all new, like a bucket of water being thrown on his head.

But a little bundle of joy, that was what the Muggles called them. A baby. A baby girl. And he had named her Isla, after the first person to be disowned off the Black family tree. That had given him a laugh. Still did, even though he was in Askaban. Even though there was the fact of the dementors. Isla Nigellus Black. They had both loved the name, his wife and him.

But where were they now? His wife was…dead. He knew this for a fact, had watched the Death Eaters torture her to death. James had rescued him, Sirius knew that. He hadn't wanted to leave, he had wanted to stay with her. But James had kept him sane, told him there was no use, he needed to stay alive, healthy, for his little girl. That was what had happened to Kira. His wife. She was dead.

But what about his daughter? Where was she? And then he realized something. That important thing that he had thought happened, that was her birthday. Her eleventh birthday. She had gotten into Hogwarts, she had to have gotten into Hogwarts. That was important for some reason. Sirius racked his brain for why, oh why, it was so important, so necessary. But he didn't figure it out before a dementors floated by and it all went away.

Who was he again?


	4. Chapter 4

The train was cold. And therefore, I was cold, because I had stupidly chosen to wear my thinnest coat and my fingerless gloves instead of things that actually keep you warm.

I walked up to a compartment that held two boys. They were both red-haired, and when I looked closer, I found that they looked exactly alike. "Um, can I sit here? All the other compartments are full."

The boys looked up. "Oh yes, come sit down," they said in unison. "We're first years, you?"

I grinned as I sat down. "First year too." When I sat on the bench, a loud farting sound emanated from under me. "Oh!"

The two boys laughed. "Perfect!" They said together, slapping hands. "Sorry about that, just wanted to try it out. I half smiled, half grimaced at them.

"Wonderful." I officially sat down. Nothing farted, thank gods. "So who are you?" I set my small brown satchel down on the bench.

"We're the Weasley twins," they chorused. "I'm Fred," one said. He was wearing a green sweater with a large blue W knitted on it.

"I'm George," the other said. He was wearing the same thing. I was privately groaning. There went my only hope of telling them apart. Oh well, at least I knew what sides they were sitting on.

"Nice to meet you. I'm….Titania…" I didn't know how to end that sentence. Father and Mother often talked about "those wretched Blood traitor Weasleys," as if they were as far below the Malfoys as Muggleborns were. I assumed the Weasleys knew about this, and consequently felt a rather strong aversion to the Malfoys.

"Last name?" I think it was Fred who asked this.

"Umm…I'm a Malfoy. Adopted." I let it all out in one breath.

"Whoa! Mum and Dad hate them!" George (maybe) said.

"Met Lucius yet? Dad says he's an awful git, but we've never met him." The last sentence was in unison.

"Oh yes," I replied. "He is a git, if you can call your own 'father' that. I've been a…how do you say…foster child of a lot of wizarding families. Mostly Purebloods. The Wizarding Foster Care Office is a little prejudiced."

The twins nodded knowledgably. "Yes, we know. We're Pureblood, but our family are considered Blood traitors."

"People say they aren't biased as to how they look at Muggleborns or Purebloods or the in-between ones, but you spot them sneaking glances at you when you do magic to see if you're as horrible as they think you'll be," said George.

"Or maybe they want to test your blood for impurities," added Fred. "We had one crazy Ministry officer come to the Burrow-our house-and ask to test our blood."

"Mum had to fight him off," said George, laughing.

"Are you serious? That's crazy. There's never been any question about my Blood status, as all of the families I was fostered in were both Pureblood and willing to blast you apart if you questioned their heritage." I laughed. "So, I grew up sheltered and I never really knew about much of this 'I'm so pure' and 'You're so not pure' stuff."

"Ah," said George. "Well, you'd better get ready. We've heard from our older brothers-"

"We have five siblings, and three older brothers among them," interrupted Fred.

"What he said," George continued, "Is true, so don't dispute it. Anyways, we've heard from our…sources that there's a whole bunch of this Pureblood stuff at Hogwarts, especially among the Slytherins." I gulped. There was no one to protect me from scrutiny of my Blood at Hogwarts.

"Yup, if I get sorted into Slytherin, I'm backing out of this whole school thing," Fred said, like there was no question about it. "So what house do you think you'll be in? I'm hoping for Gryffindor."

"Me too," added Fred.

"And if we're not in the same house," they said together, "We're dropping out."

"I can see that," I replied.

"So, we asked you a question. What house d'you think you'll be in?"

"Don't know, to tell the truth. I...I'm just going to wait and see." I stuttered. They didn't know it, but I was a Slytherin for sure if I got my say in the Sorting Hat's decision. Otherwise…well, I'd be on the streets in no time.

"Hope you're in our house," Fred said thoughtfully. "You seem nice enough." Unless they were in Slytherin (and even knowing them as little as I do, it seemed almost impossible), that was…improbable to say the least.

"Yeah…me too. Hope I'm in your house, I mean."! How was I going to stand seven whole years at Hogwarts in Slytherin? And if I wasn't in Slytherin, how was I going to survive on the streets by myself?

Time passed, and soon enough, we arrived on Hogwarts. "Just look at it!" Fred exclaimed. "All that castle! All that space!"

"We could put a trip wire in there and no one would step on it for weeks!" George said excitedly.

"Wanna bet?" Fred asked.

"Done deal," replied George, flashing a Sickle out of his pocket. Fred grinned.

We got out of the train, me almost tripping on my long robes which I had put on only minutes before. "Firs' years, firs' years! All of yeh, come on." A gigantic figure stood in the middle of the crowd of students. He waved his arms , trying not to hit the taller students passing by. His figure was burly, but he was taller than anyone else I had ever seen before. His face was covered by a long, thick, dark brown beard. "Firs' years, get in the boats. See here?" He ushered the other first years into small wooden boats floating on a large body of water separating us from the main body of Hogwarts.

Fred, George and I all fit into one boat. "Who are you?" I ask as he crams himself into the boat next to us.

"Me? I'm jus' the groundskeeper for Hogwarts. Nothin' special. Me name's Hagrid."

"Oh," I said. "Nice to meet you. I'm Titania."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I don't own any of the characters or settings in this story (except maybe Isla, but she isn't even copyrighted. Not sure about that.) Thanks to Zenith for helping me with the Sorting Hat's rhymes.**

The Great Hall was warm. My fingers quickly adjusted to the temperature, and once I got over the sudden change in heat, I started to look around. Thousands of students sat at long tables, wearing black robes and pointy hats. I quickly deduced which table was which, spotting tiny green, blue, red, and yellow crests on the student's robes.

As my supposed last name was Malfoy, I came after "Lewyn, Carissa," sorted into Hufflepuff.

I gulped as McGonagall called my name in a crisp Scottish accent, "Malfoy, Titiana." I heard a couple snickers at the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables, and more than a couple "She's a Malfoy? I hadn't heard that they had another child!" But I held my head high as I walked up. Pride was the most important thing.

McGonagall set the old hat on my head. It drooped over my eyes in a most definitely unbecoming way, and a few snickers echoed through the hall.

"_Why, hello, Ms. Black." _The Sorting Hat said kindly.

"_You know my name?" _I thought.

"_Why, yes, of course. But let's get onto the Sorting._

_Your heart is bold,_

_Your bravery strong,_

_Gryffindor is the house for you…_

_But you think 'tis wrong?" _

"_I don't know…" _I pictured Father's face as he told me I would be cast onto the streets if I was in any house but Slytherin. But then I thought of my real father's letter to me, and how I had to protect this 'Harry Potter.'

"_Strange things abroad_

_When one's true house is courage_

_You would live a fraud?" _

"_I told you, I don't know!" _I yelled, if you can think-yell.

"_Well…" _The Sorting Hat thought for a moment, then continued.

"_Slytherin is in your blood,_

_Or so it is that you've been told._

_Slytherin the house of ambition,_

_Slytherin the house of old,_

_You are of that line, it is quite true,_

_But is Slytherin the house for you?"_

"_Maybe it is! I'm not brave enough to accept-to bear- the punishment if I'm sorted into Gryffindor!" _I wanted to cry.

"_Alright then,_

_You must be…." _

"SLYTHERIN!" This it bellowed aloud, scaring me. I pulled the hat off my head and set it on the chair and ran to the Slytherin table, where all the Slytherins were clapping.

After me came "Maele, Sixten," sorted into Gryffindor. Time went by quickly as I mused on my new position as a first year Slytherin. It would be hard to win over the other Slytherins, and hard to bear the coming scorn from Fred and George, but I wasn't a Gryffindor after all. Was I?

Finally, Fred was called. The Sorting Hat was on his head for about a minute, then it called "GRYFFINDOR!" I smiled into my sleeves. At least one of the twins got what he wanted. Had I? George was also Sorted into Gryffindor. Fred whistled as he walked over to the Gryffindor table, the high sound almost lost in all the cheers.

The prefects led us to the dungeons deep beneath the castle. "Why are they taking us to a dead end?" I whispered to an older student next to me.

"You'll see," she whispered. "You're a first year, aren't you?" I nodded. "A tip: don't go down the other passageway. Professor Snape has it rigged up with all kinds of nasty potions on the doorframes just waiting to fall on an unsuspected firstie."

I gulped. "Thanks. For the tip, I mean." She nodded, apparently considering herself too high in rank to talk to a "firstie" for more than a couple seconds.

The prefect who seemed to be in charge, a tall boy with black hair and hazel eyes whispered to the wall in front of him. I was just about to conclude that all Slytherins were crazy when the wall slid open, revealing a darkly lit room with many passageways leading off.

"Main room, firsties," the head prefect said. We oohed and aahed for a while, but then the prefects ushered us off to our respective dormitories by gender.

My bed was hard, and reminded me all too much of my room at Malfoy Manor. The bed was canopied in a thin green fabric. I fell asleep as soon as I got on it, not bothering to even pull the canopies so they covered the bed or get my pajamas on.


	6. Chapter 6

I woke early the next morning, the bustle of the dormitory too loud to be ignored. My schedule was on my nightstand, apparently delivered by owl in the night. I took a look at it. First period: Charms.

I hustled to get new robes on, brush my hair, and get my books together. I shoved them in a black satchel, grabbed my wand, stuffed it in my sheath, and off I went. Charms was on the first floor, but even so, it was far from the Slytherin dungeons.

I got a seat in the middle, wanting to stay far away some of the other more sinister looking Slytherins. Professor Flitwick stood on a table, waving his arms for quiet. "Please, be quiet!" He squeaked. "Be quiet, I say!" I watched him as he muttered something and pressed his wand to his throat. He mustered himself. "BE QUIET!" His normally squeaky voice echoed about the large room. Everyone looked up. The Professor looked pleased. "Quietus," he said.

"Now you see the power of charms. One whose voice is normally quite…small can be loud as anyone!" He hopped off the table, stumbling a little. "Our first day, today, is going to be dedicated to seeing how much you already know about charms. I will pass out a test," here he muttered "Wingardium leviosa," and a stack of papers lifted into the air, dropping onto our desks with a flick of his wand, "and you will complete it to the best of your abilities." There were more than a few groans. "Don't complain, we'll get on to more interesting stuff soon."

I dipped my quill in my ink and readied myself for the test. First question: TRUE OR FALSE: A charm is a jinx. False, I wrote. If the rest of the test was as easy as this, I had it covered.

I turned the test in feeling confident. The test had gotten harder, but not too hard. I glanced at my schedule. My next class was Double Potions with the Gryffindors. Gods, I hope that the twins weren't in my class.

I rushed down to the dungeons. In my haste, I bumped into someone. "Titiana!" A male voice said. "I've wanted to talk to you!" It was…er; let's just say one of the twins.

"No, sorry, got to go! I have Potions next, and I can't be late!" I kept going.

"That's what I have next too! We can talk on the run!" I kept walking. "So, Fred and I were talking," (at least I knew which twin it was now) "about the Slytherin thing? And the Malfoys? And how you seemed nice? On the train?"

"I know," I said briskly. "You thought I was nice, even though I was a Malfoy, and you thought I would be in Gryffindor, and hooray! Happily ever after! Except not. We can't be friends! Father hates you!" I sprinted off, clutching my books to my chest, too afraid to look back. I had just spouted off like a true Malfoy to the only "friends" I had.

Potions was torture. Turns out that both of the twins were in my class, and I spotted them looking at me and whispering more than once.

"If there's something so interesting about Ms. Titania, why don't you share it with the class?" Snape asked in a silky voice halfway through the lesson.

The twins turned identical shades of red. "No. We're fine. We were just admiring your pretty flowers over there," George said. He pointed to a "bouquet" of asphodel.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, for talking back and not paying attention in class. Oh, and, if we're counting not paying attention in class? Let's have another five points from the other Mr. Weasley." Fred looked like he was about to explode.

I heard George whisper something to Fred that sounded like "Live and learn, live and learn." I did not want to be around to see what that meant.

By the end of the day, I had already heard the gossip that Professor Snape had found some asphodel with pretty pink flowers on the ends in one of his potions. Apparently that potion had had some sensitive ingredients in it which reacted with the asphodel in…explosive ways. I had more than a hunch as to who did it, and I was fairly sure that the reaction hadn't been a mistake.

My last class of the day was Transfiguration. I took a seat beside a pretty girl with short dark hair and coffee colored skin. During the class, Professor McGonagall asked us to find a partner and tell them what we knew about Transfiguration.

"Psst!" I whispered to the girl next to me. She looked a little lost. "Want to be partners?" She started.

"Uh, sure. What do you know about transfiguration?"

"Well, it's the magic of turning things into other things. That's basically all I know."

"Me too," the girl laughed. "I'm a Muggleborn, so I don't know much about anything. To tell the truth, I'm still a little confused about this whole "house" thing."

"Don't worry, you'll figure it out soon enough. I can explain some stuff to you if you have free time after classes and not too much homework."

"That would be great! I have a bunch of questions!"

"Okay. Meet me in the vestibule of the Slytherin common room and we'll talk. By the way, I'm Titiana."

"I'm Harvest. My parents used to live in Mexico and they worked in the fields." Now that she said it, I could hear a faint accent. "We immigrated here when I was five. We've lived here since. Then I got the letter, and it was unlikely we'd have enough money for me to go to any other school, so I accepted. It's been confusing since…since the owl came in through the kitchen window." She laughed.

"Well, hopefully after you get the chance to ask some questions, you'll be less confused."

"Yes. But maybe we should get back to discussing what we know about transfiguration.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I don't own any of these settings or characters (except maybe Harvest and Isla/Titiana. I really have to find out about that.). They are all J.K. Rowling's. Thanks to all of you who post reviews on this story. It's going to go on for a while, and so constructive criticism is welcome. And one last thing: am I doing a better job at spelling Titiana's name? I sure hope so. My spell checker still doesn't like it, but I do. You probably want the story now, so here you go.**

After Transfiguration, I rush to the Slytherin common room. I had a feeling that Harvest was one of those people who are always early, and sure enough, there she was, lounging on a couch.

"Hey, Harvest! I'm here!" I said, just loud enough to reach her. The common room seemed like a place where you couldn't be too loud.

She looked at me. "Hello, Titiana. Good afternoon."

"Wow!" I laughed.

"Why 'wow'? I was being polite."

"Oh…just, no one really talks like that. The only one I know of is…" I thought for a moment. "Professor Dumbledore."

She sniffed haughtily. "Well, from what I know of him, Professor Dumbledore is a man it would do us all good to be more like!"

"True. Now, what are your questions? We aren't just here to be polite." I sat down next to her.

"First: What are these houses? I have a minute grasp of them, but…."

"I see. Well, the four are Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. Slytherins are ambitious and clever (like Ravenclaws, except more…willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want), but you'll find we have a bad reputation. Gryffindors are the brave and courageous ones. Ravenclaws are the ones who solve the problems, they're smart and methodical. Hufflepuffs have a weak stereotype, but you'll find they're very hard-working. Got it?"

"I think so?" Harvest said. "It's going to take me a while to keep them straight. I'll probably have made a fool of myself calling Hufflepuffs 'Puffers' in no time. But anyways, second question. What is 'Mudblood'?"

I gasped. "Someone called you that?"

"Yeah. It sounded bad, but I didn't know what it was."

"Who was it?"

"The tall boy? I think he's Head Boy, or something like that. With the green eyes? Him."

"That git! I'll get him!"

"There's still the matter that I don't even know what it means," Harvest reminded me.

"Oh. It's an insult for a witch or wizard who is born to Muggles. You must have magical blood somewhere in your family tree, but not in your immediate family."

"Does that mean that I'm not as good at magic as the rest of the 'Pureblood' people, whatever that is?"

"No, not at all. And Pureblood is when both your parents are of magical blood. Most Slytherins are Pureblood, even I am, but not all. You're a testimony to that. The other Slytherins just like rubbing it in people's faces."

"So I'm rare?"

"If you want to think of it that way, yes."

"Huh. Well, thanks for giving me some answers."

"Anytime. And by the way, if that git calls you a Mudblood again, just come to me, and I'll…I don't know, but it'll be bad."

"I can take care of it myself. But thanks for the offer."

"Yup. Just call me, certified Git Buster."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I don't own any of the characters or settings. J.K. Rowling owns them. I hope you like it so far, and I'm sorry this is so long. Otherwise it would've been a cliffhanger, and I don't like cliffhangers, even if I'm writing them. Here it is!**

We had the day off from classes the next day, and I was spending the day with Harvest.

"So what d'you want to do?"

"Dunno." Harvest threw a glance outside. "I don't envy the quidditch team, though." The Slytherin quidditch team had decided to practice despite the dreary weather, and they were getting pummeled by the pre-winter storm that covered Hogwarts.

"Yeah." Harvest laughed. "You know, in some of the old Mexican legends, they mention rain spirits called _chacs_. If my mother was here, she'd say that the _chacs _angry."

"Huh. Well, if anything, the creatures in the Forbidden Forest are probably all hiding in their dens or whatchamacallits." I peered over the zooming quidditch players.

"You really think so? Maybe we could go in and check it out…" Harvest looked the most excited I'd seen her.

"No! Professor Dumbledore said we couldn't!"

"Then I'll go by myself!" Harvest attempted to stand up from her place in a lumpy armchair. I caught her arm.

"Wait. This is a bad idea. You really shouldn't go." I squeezed her arm. "We can go ask Snape for permission to look at Potions books in the Restricted Section. Say we're doing a little extra studying, that we're interested in some more advanced subjects. How about it?"

"Fine. I won't go. But let's just go to the library. If we try to ask Snape anything, you'll chicken out again." She sat back down primly.

"Hey! I will not chicken out!"

"Yes, you will. Let's just go to the library." She got up, brushing green filaments from the old chair off her robes.

"Okay." I shrugged.

After many hours of making fun of long dead wizards and witches names, we finally went back to the common room. Our beds were next to each other, I had made sure after I met Harvest.

" 'Night."

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow."

"You too."

Silence. It was almost too silent in the girl's dormitory. It reminded me of Malfoy Mansion, and how glad I was to be here instead of there. I got out of bed. I couldn't sleep, not at all. Plopping down on the window seat, I stared out the window. It was as dreary as ever, and the quidditch field seemed empty without the excitement of the players on it. The six goal posts loomed above the field, watching and waiting, it seemed, for a juicy young first year. I shivered.

Just as I was about to go back to bed, a glimmer of light on the field caught my eye. Two figures, one holding a small lantern, ran across the field. Their light glinted, and I caught a glimpse of red hair. I sighed. It was the Weasley twins.

I got up, threw my robes on, and pulled my wand off my nightstand. I didn't know why, but I felt obligated to keep the twins from getting into trouble. I had to prove myself after mouthing off to George. I wasn't a Malfoy. I was a Black. Of course, they couldn't know that, but it made me feel better to think about it.

I pulled the common room door open. "_Lumos_." It was dark in the dungeon, and as I walked I was sure that something large and slimy slithered over my foot. I climbed up the stairs, almost tripping once (Or twice. Or more). Finally, the seemingly bright lights of a lantern shone in my eyes. A torch sat on the wall beside the dungeon door, and I grabbed it to light my lantern more thoroughly. It brightened when I held the torch to it, hopefully bright enough to guide me through the Forbidden Forest. I put the torch up on the wall.

The Hogwarts doors were locked, but I had learned more than a little from my many years with Death Eaters as foster parents. "_Alohomora._" The lock clicked open. Luckily, Filch hadn't bothered to pull up the drawbridge, so I had no problem getting across the moat.

There were two clear sets of footprints in the mud, and I was careful not to destroy them, though I dragged a branch behind my own so that I could not be followed.

When I reached the edge of the forest, I took a deep breath. Breaking the rules was stressful. Then I plunged into the darkness. My tiny lantern barely lit a square foot around me, and I had to hold it to the ground to see the tracks.

As the forest grew darker and darker, I began to worry about getting out of the forest. I could just turn around, couldn't I? Just go back the way I came? I pushed this thought to the back of my mind.

I felt small crunching sounds under my feet. I had raised the lantern to see where I was going, occasionally checking the tracks. I squatted on the ground, shining the lantern onto a patch of dirt. About twenty spiders swarmed there, and as I swung the lantern around, I realized that they were all over the ground. I ran.

I heard some male voices up ahead, and so I sprinted that direction. There, in a large clearing, Fred and George sat, talking with a giant spider. I strained to hear exactly what they were saying. "…do you call an undercover spider?" asked one of the twins. "A spy-der!" cried the other one.

A loud, raspy laugh came from the giant spider's vicinity. "You shall tell me another one," commanded the spider, which I now recognized as an acromantula.

The twins bobbed their heads. "Okay, here's another: What are spider webs good for?"

The acromantula thought for a moment. "Wrapping wounds?"

"Yes," amended one of the twins, "but also spiders."

"I don't get it," rasped the acromantula. "You shall tell me another joke. One that makes sense."

"Yes, Aragog. So: What exactly do spiders eat in Paris?"

"French flies!" cried the other twin.

"You shall tell"

The twins didn't let Aragog finish. "Could you let us go? We have to get home before school starts." One twin glanced towards the long path back to Hogwarts.

"No! You will stay here…or…let's just say that my children are hungry tonight." Aragog hissed.

"That's nice...but gotta go." As if one person, the twins sped off. I knew when it was time to go, so I ran after them.

Millions of legs skittered on the ground, overshadowed by the thumping of Aragog's legs. "Come back!" The acromantula howled.

"Sorry!" One of the twins stopped. "We'll come back."

"Now I have you!" The acromantula spread its pincers. It lunged.

"_Stupefy!_" My voice was hoarser than I had intended it to be, but the spell did its purpose. A red jet of light hit the acromantula, knocking it backwards onto its back. The twin who had stopped stared. "Let's _go_!" I pulled him along.

"Oh. Sorry." It seemed like he was in shock. "Wait. Titiana?"

"Yes. It's me, I'm sorry for mouthing off at you a couple days ago if you're George, I'm not a git. Really."

"Okay."


	9. Interlude Two

Many years before:

"She's beautiful."

"I know."

"I'm sorry. About Kira."

"No. It's not your fault, it's mine."

"Stop blaming yourself. Your daughter is alive!"

"And for what? So she can die too? Like Kira? No! That's not going to happen. I won't let it."

"I know you won't let it happen to her. To Isla. But you've got to let up a little, Padfoot."

"Fine. You want me to be happy? Fine. 'Yay! Sunshine and rainbows and unicorns! Oh wait…my wife is dead.' James, this changes everything."

"Not everything. You still have her, and she's going to be safe. With you. Sirius, you'll be an excellent father."

"I'm not ready, not at all. There's no way I can do this alone."

"You're not alone. You've got me, Lily, Moony, Wormtail, Dumbledore. So many people."

"It feels like I'm alone."

"It always does."

"You don't know that. Your wife hasn't died. You have a perfect little life. If…Voldemort wasn't at large, you'd be happy. Except for maybe me. I'm the Bludger to your Chaser."

"You aren't holding me back! Do you think that? Maybe you're just assuming that you're that important. Maybe you're just a speck of dust in my life, compared to my wife, and my coming child."

"Okay. You want to do it that way? Let's do it that way. Ridicule me. Make me even more sorry that I even tried to kill Snivelus. More than once, James, more than once."

"You know that he's on our side."

"Dumbledore thinks so. I don't. Believe me, James, one day he's going to turn on us, and we're going to be sorry we even looked at him as a member of the Order of the Phoenx."

"Padfoot, please."

"I'm out."

"You are still very much in."

"It's my decision."

"You're going to regret it."

"I won't. I'll be a normal wizard, a normal person. Finally."


	10. Chapter 10

"Fred."

"You're supposed to be a Gryffindor? Why not?"

"Because…." I gulped.

"Let off!" George punched his twin.

"I was just asking! Didn't know it was such a sensitive subject!" Fred rolled his eyes.

"No, no, it's fine. You have a right to know…"

"So are you gonna tell us, or just sit there?" Fred said impatiently.

"I'll tell you. Lucius Malfoy told me that he would kick me out if I was in any house but Slytherin. And so…I'm not brave enough to not care about being kicked out of Malfoy Mansion, so I asked the Sorting Hat to put me in Slytherin."

The twins looked rather confused. "So you asked…to be in Slytherin?"

"Yes…"

"It let you boss it around?!"

"Don't know, okay?" I got up from my spot on the quidditch bleachers. "Gotta go over to the Slytherin side."

"But the game doesn't start for a while! Come on, sorry we were being annoying!"

"No, it's fine. Go talk with the other Gryffindors." I made my way through the awkwardly placed bleachers over to the other side of the quidditch stadium, where a few spots of green already sat, shivering in the December cold.

"Titiana!" Harvest, several rows up, waved her arms around. "Come sit over here!" She patted the empty spot beside her, covered by a hat and scarf. "I'm keeping it warm!"

I laughed. "Thanks for saving me a spot. But…you do know that's against the rules, right?"

"Yeah. Who cares?"

"The people who make the rules?" I sat down.

"Titania?" Harvest suddenly seemed tentative.

"What?"

"I saw you outside in the Forbidden Forest in October with some other people. I've been meaning to ask you what you were doing out there."

"Nothing."

"And I seem to remember that someone told me that we weren't supposed to go into the Forbidden Forest."

"Listen, Harvest-"

"And I saw you with two other people. I've been racking my brain for people with red hair who you might be with, and I hadn't come up with any matches…until I saw you hanging out with those Weasley twins!"

"No, Harvest, it's not what you think it is!"

"I think it's exactly what I think it is! You're supposed to be a Slytherin! Gryffindors and Slytherins are rivals!"

"No, that's not the point at all! We're supposed to be all in harmony throughout the houses!"

"Well, from what I've seen, there isn't any 'harmony throughout the houses.' At all!"

"lt may be scarce now, but it's what is supposed to happen, not this-this!" I waved my arms around.

"You can try whatever you want to bring about 'interhouse harmony' or whatever. Hangout with those Blood trait-Weasley twins,"

I interrupted her. "Wait, Harvest, did you just say 'Blood traitors'? Because I thought you didn't know about that yet?"

She looked very flustered. "Well-well-well maybe someone else in my friend now." She got up. "Sit alone. I'm finding another seat."

The quidditch match was well played. The Slytherins won 220 to 210, the Gryffindor seeker getting the snitch with a dangerous Wronski Feint. The Slytherin seeker slammed into the ground, and they had to pull him out for the rest of the game, even though the game was short lived after that.

I tried to catch up to Harvest after the game. "Hey!" I was one of the smaller ones in the crowd, so my voice was muffled in the older year's robes. "Hey Harvest!"

"Get out of my way, kid," was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

"Wait…what's going on?" I murmured. "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital wing, dear." A calming voice said.

I opened my eyes. A old lady with a nurse's outfit on sat on a chair beside my…my hospital bed? "I need to get out of here! I need to talk to Harvest!" I sat up, but a sharp pain went through my head. "Ga!"

"Lie back down, lie back down." She pushed me gently down. "I am Madame Pomfrey, and you have been sleeping for two days."

"TWO DAYS!" I tried to sit up again, but the same happened as the first time. "What is with my head?"

"We think you may have some kind of concussion. Professor Snape has brewed a potion that will prevent you from having any permanent brain damage, but your vision may be a bit fuzzy and you might have trouble remembering things. Also, you sleep. A lot."

"And how did I get this 'concussion'?"

"The Gryffindor quidditch captain was coming through and he pushed you out of the way. He was obviously annoyed after losing a match, so he may have used more force than he intended to. You fell into the crowd and someone hit you on the head. My theory is that a broomstick bumped you, but who knows?" Madame Pomfrey shrugged.

"I need to get up."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I need to talk to Harvest."

"She'll come if it matters. Is, by any chance, Harvest one of those identical red-headed boys who visited you a few times while you were asleep?"

"No, no! Those are Fred and George."

"Ah. Well, they are better friends than this Harvest of yours."

"Why?"

"They care."

"Don't assume things about Harvest! We just had an argument. She's probably still mad."

"Yes, of course." Madame Pomfrey's voice turned patronizing. Too bad. I had just started to like her. "Now, drink this potion-"

"What is it?"

"I told you, the potion that Professor Snape made to prevent any permanent brain damage. Now drink it!" She forced it into my hand. I gulped it down. It tasted like the bile that comes up in your throat when you throw up.

"That's gross," I said, putting the the empty bottle on the nightstand beside me. Madame Pomfrey was already up and walking. "Why are you going?" My eyelids drooped. "Sleeping draught," I whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

It was not morning. The light could not be shining in my eyes from the giant hospital windows. And most of all, Harvest could not be sitting by my bed, saying all the reasons she was sorry. I was just too tired.

My eyes were stuck shut with sleep and I had to rub them open. "Yes, I know, you're really sorry." I interrupted Harvest's tangent of sorrys.

"Were you awake?" Harvest jumped up. "I've got to go! You shouldn't have heard that!"

"Why? You were just saying sorry." Racking my brain for things I heard that Harvest shouldn't have said, I sat up and reached out to Harvest's shoulder. "Don't go. I've been sleeping for a while, I think, and I want some company other than the dust motes and nightmares."

Harvest sat back down. "You've only been sleeping for about a day. You were awake at about midnight last night and Madame Pomfrey gave you some medicine to calm you down. You were quite scared of something or someone named… 'Black,' was it?"

I gulped. "Must've been nightmares. I don't remember that."

"Huh. Well, the Madame said I had to give you this once you were awake. It's not sleeping draught, don't worry."

I took a corked bottle filled with a deep purple liquid from her. Gulping it down, I set the bottle down on the nightstand. "Tastes like grapes. Pretty good." I made a sour face. "Until the aftertaste. Dirty socks, anyone?"

Harvest laughed. "Yuck. By the way, you're off bed rest tomorrow."

"I'd better go to sleep. Time passes fast when you're fast asleep."

"I'll leave you to it." Harvest got up and walked away. I was asleep soon enough.

The next day I was eager to get off bed rest. My first class was Potions with the Gryffindors.

"Finally back, Malfoy?" I started at Snape's use of my current foster family's surname.

"Yes, sir. I'm glad to be off bed rest." I forced a smile.

"Good, good. Now, today we are going to mix Angel's Trumpet Draught. This commonly used potion contains a flower called Brugmansia, nicknamed the trumpet flower. Brugmansia has several magical properties, including being a kind of stimulant for plants. Therefore, the dregs of this potion after you have sifted it make excellent fertilizer. The purpose of Angel's Trumpet Draught is to remember things. You can remember things from when you were small, or just what you need to bring to class. The potion works by stimulating the part of your brain which controls memories, making that part of the brain work faster and better for a period of time. However," Snape finally took a breath here, "one side effect is that other parts of the brain may not function as well while the potion is in effect. So this potion is not a tool to help you remember things for school. It is considered cheating." He emphasized the last word, staring at the Weasley twins. They attempted to look innocent, which was unconvincing, as Fred was trying not to laugh and George was smirking.

"Now, just follow the instructions on the board." Snape settled down in his chair, picking up a large black book off his desk and beginning to read.

The potion was easy enough. I mixed, chopped, minced, and sifted the potion until it was magenta, as described in the instructions. _For remembering,_ I thought. _Maybe…maybe I could remember my dad…and my mom! _I picked up a small bottle on the table beside me and slipped it up my sleeve. Scoop! A small dose of magenta potion sat in the bottle. I corked it and put it in my pocket. Surely no one would miss it.


	12. Chapter 12

I looked around the room. All the bedside lights were off, and all the girls in Slytherin were lying asleep in their beds. I even heard a couple snores.

It had taken a while until everyone in the common room was asleep, but it was worth it. Besides, I didn't know what the potion would do to me while it was in effect.

The potion bottle was cold in my hands, and it was cold as it trickled down my throat. I could feel the individual drops, tickling my esophagus. _1, 2, 3…._I silently counted down. When would the potion take effect.

_10, 11, 12, 13….7, 3…._was my last thought before everything went pink.

"_My Isla, sweet baby," a female voice cooed. You look up and see a kind face with blonde hair and dark brown eyes. You're swaddled in a thick pink baby blanket._

"_Ga, mam," you say. Somehow you can't talk normally. _

"_Sirius! Isla just said something!" A tall, dark-haired man hurries over. _

"_What did she say?" He's wearing a black suit with a mahogany tie, and his hair is neat. _

"_Mum." The woman cuddles you closer._

"_That's wonderful, Kira. I wish I could stay with you and Isla, but I've got to go to Rodulphus Lestrange's trial." Sirius straightens his tie. "Hopefully I'll be back soon."_

_The woman, Kira, pulls your swaddling tight. "I'm sorry that you have to be in this," she whispers. Her words are meant for you only. "I'm sorry that we have to risk our lives every day. But it's to make a better world for you, okay? Always remember that." She sets you in a cradle and sits down in an armchair. She picks up a large newspaper._

"_Gods," she mutters. "The Longbottoms…such good people, dead." Kira casts a stray glance at your cradle. "All for you, my love."_

_There's a flash of light, and you're in your father's arms. "Goodbye, Isla. We should be back soon." He sets you in your cradle. You want to scream, "Don't leave me behind!", but it comes out "Dada goo ga fafoodle!" One last glance at you._

"_Kira, c'mon! We're going to be late for the rendezvous!" The same woman rushes down the dark stairs and out the door._

"_Now who's c'mon," she calls. Sirius hurries after her, closing the door behind her. It's dark._

_Another flash of light. "I'm out."_

"_You are still very much in."_

"_It's my decision."_

"_You're going to regret it."_

"_I won't. I'll be a normal person, a normal wizard. Finally." You can barely see your father and another man, this one with mussed black hair and glasses, sitting next to each other on the ground. "Go away, James." Sirius waves his hand. James stands up and walks out the door. There's stiffness in his step._

_Sirius almost breaks down, you can see by how much he blinks. But he looks at you and stops. He gets up and picks up your crib gently. He carries it up the stairs and into a bedroom. You sleep not in the nursery, but beside your father that night._

_The flash of light hurts your eyes this time. "Goodbye." Sirius's voice says, and then one last flash of light…_

I blinked once. Twice. Where was I? My bed, in the Slytherin common room, at Hogwarts, right. What had happened to my mum? I still didn't understand! I shook the bottle, but there was no more memory potion left. A single tear dripped down my face. I dove under the covers.

I could pretend I didn't know what had happened to Kira, my mum, but I knew as well as my dad had. She was dead.


	13. Chapter 13

I cracked my eyes open. "Who dares wake me?" I asked crankily.

"Me, dummy, it's Christmas!" I bolted off my bed.

"CHRISTMAS?! I…I didn't get you anything." I turned red. To tell the truth, I had forgotten about the feast the night before. It had been fun. There had been lots of dancing and butterbeer, and I had probably made a fool of myself in front of one or more teachers.

"It's okay…" Harvest blushed. "I didn't get you anything either."

"We can be no present friends," I said, trying to make Harvest feel better. It had been five days since my stint with the memory potion, and I had been grumpy the whole time. Christmas was a good time to start over.

I had received a whoopee cushion from Fred and George, obviously a reference to our first meeting. The Malfoys had given me a cache of galleons, one hollow with a small hastily scrawled note inside:

_You're doing well so far, just don't make any more mistakes like the Weasleys._

I immedietly knew who it was from: Lucius Malfoy. Only one person would call the Weasleys mistakes. But if he found about Harvest, it was on the streets for me!

A small black envelope sat on my bedside table, with _Open in private_ written on the front in neatly slanted handwriting that I recognized from my admissions letter as Professor Dumbledore's. I hid it from Harvest under my pillow. I had a feeling about who it was from.

When Harvest went off to breakfast, I told her I had to put my shoes on and that she should go without me. Once I was absolutely sure that she was gone, I tore the envelope open. It read:

_Dear Isla,_

_I can't write much, as the dementors will see me, but I wanted to wish you a merry Christmas. _

_It may be hard being at Hogwarts with a large secret like yours, and I'm sorry that my mistakes make you at risk, but I still love you._

_Sirius Black_

_P.S. There's a small souvenir in the envelope as well as this letter. It's made out of jarvey teeth. There are millions of them running around Askaban, and I thought I may as well make use of them._

I dug my hand into the back of the envelope, wondering what he meant by souvenir. A necklace sat inside, made out of black cord and small white teeth. I fastened it around my neck and looked in the mirror. No, I couldn't cry.

Christmas dinner was fine, pudding and all. Professor Dumbledore's sharp eyes caught my necklace, and he winked conspiratorially at me. I smiled back. A returning wink would have just made me cry.

**Sorry that the chapters have been so short! Hope you like the story so far, and please leave reviews.**

**-docmuse**


	14. Chapter 14

Spring term had started a while ago, and it was almost Easter break. The professors were piling the work on, trying to get everything done…twice! The Quidditch Cup was no closer to being won than it had been at Christmas, and the pressure was on. Everybody was at every Quidditch game, even ones in which their house was not taking part in.

That day was cold, and there was a Slytherin/Ravenclaw match taking place after lessons. The two houses had been trash talking each other all day (okay, maybe it was mostly Slytherin), and tension swarmed between them.

Late in the day, I pulled my green scarf on. "Think we're going to win?" I asked Harvest, who was pulling her rain boots on.

"I hope so," Harvest said uncertainly. "Right now it's anyone's game."

I nodded. "We'll see."

We walked down to the quidditch field together, passing through the warm hallways. Surprisingly, a girl dressed in Ravenclaw robes sat in the hallway, reading a thick book. Her hair was pure white and her eyes startlingly blue. I had to blink to get used to her appearance.

"What's with her?" I asked Harvest.

"Dunno. What I want to know is why she isn't at the game. She's certainly Ravenclaw," Harvest continued, nodding at the blue crest embroidered on the girl's robes. Even from fairly far away, I could see the tiny eagle.

As we got closer, the girl looked up from her book and spotted us. She scrunched her nose, pushing her navy glasses further up on her nose.

"Why aren't you at the quidditch game?" Harvest asked the girl in a snide voice. I poked her. She ignored me. _Just keep the stereotypes coming, people. I'm loving this whole mean Slytherin thing_, I thought.

"I have this thing called homework," the girl said, sliding up the wall to stand. She was decidedly taller than Harvest, yet extruded a much smaller "look at me" vibe.

"There are other times to do it," Harvest said smarmily. "Your team's playing. You know, house spirit, rah rah rah?" Her voice grew louder.

"I have plenty of 'house spirit, rah rah rah,' thank you, it's just I don't want to fail my first year at Hogwarts," the girl said, clutching her book to her and readying herself as if for a crippling blow.

"Don't worry," said Harvest, in a condescending voice, "you'll be sure to get at most an Acceptable on your O.W.L.s if you try hard enough."

The girl turned red, which looked rather strange, contrasting with her white hair and pale skin. "Are you talking about yourself? Because I think you've got us mixed up, only you're sure to get a Poor at most."

Harvest stiffened. I pulled on her arm. _You're going to regret this_, I tried to mind-transmit to her. Apparently it didn't work, as she started shouting at the girl. "You need to shut up! Even if you are a Ravenclaw, that's no excuse to be a know-it-all! And you're ugly as a bugbear to boot! Your mother must be ashamed."

The girl opened her mouth to say something, and then stormed away, almost dropping her book. "Stupid," muttered Harvest. "Come on, Titiana, let's go watch the game. We're sure to win against those Ravenclaw sissies."

We won the game 10-9, but I still felt bad about standing by while Harvest bullied that girl. What would my dad think? I wanted to apologize, but would she really think I was sincere? Of course not! But I had to prove to myself that I wasn't a true Slytherin, not like I was realizing Harvest to be.

The next day was the beginning of Easter break, and I made it my mission to find the Ravenclaw girl and apologize. I followed the Ravenclaw girls around, and finally, near the end of the day, I spotted her on the top of the Astronomy tower, standing in the rain. I hurried up the stairs, making an effort to cover my head. I gave up as I reached the top of the tower and was immediately soaked.

"Um, hey."

"Hey," the girl said coldly, and I knew she knew that I was the girl who had stood by while she had been ridiculed.

"Look, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for the whole bystander thing, and could we just make up?" I fumbled through the sentence.

"You want me to forgive you?" She turned around and looked at me incredulously, short white hair plastered to her cheek. "I wouldn't, if only….Madame Bones always said…" her voice grew quieter. "I formally forgive you. You have been relieved of all charges," she announced, holding out her hand in peace. I shook it.

"Now that I've been formally forgiven, we should know each other's names. I'm Titiana." I said.

"I'm Astraea, but you can call me Eloise. Madame Bones says that Astraea is too difficult to pronounce. And it's true. Get it right, people!" Her face darkened.

"Astraea," I ventured.

"You got it right!" She brightened. "Perhaps we'll be friends after all, so long as your ghastly pet stays away from me." It took me a moment to realize that she was talking about Harvest. I didn't know whether to be angry or laugh.

**Thanks to Zenith for Eloise/Astraea! I'm sorry that there haven't been any chapters in a while, I've been quite busy. I hope that everyone likes the story so far, but know that soon her first year will end and she'll be a big second year! **

**-docmuse.**


	15. Chapter 15

The end of the school year was a sad day for me. It seemed just yesterday that I had been sorted. I had only just met Astraea, and I wouldn't see her during summer break at all.

"Back to the Malfoys," I said to Harvest. The train platform was warm under my boots.

"Have fun," she said back, grimacing. I had already said goodbye to Astraea, knowing that Harvest would be mad if I talked to Astraea while I was walking with her.

I rolled my eyes at Harvest. "Hooray." I spotted Fred and George, jumping up and down in the middle of a crowd of red and gold. They were waving, desperately trying to get my attention. I caught George's eye and winked. He winked back.

Snacks came about halfway through the train ride. "Hocolate fog?" I offered Harvest a packaged candy, my mouth full.

"Sure," she said, taking it. Harvest opened the package and the frog jumped out. "Grab it!" She yelled, making a wild lunge. This was one feisty chocolate frog. I sat completely still in my seat until the frog assumed I was safe. It hopped onto my outstretched hand and I closed my hand on it.

"Peep, peep," said the chocolate frog. I peeked into my hand.

"Aw, he's actually kind of cute," I said.

"You're not going to eat him?" Harvest moved over to my side of the compartment and took a peek at the chocolate frog as well. "I guess he's cute," she said doubtfully. "As cute as a frog can be."

I put the frog in my pocket. "I'm going to call him Meatball."

"Meatball," Harvest said incredulously. "He's cute, but you're calling him Meatball? That's just too much."

Soon enough we were at Platform 9 ¾, and I had to say goodbye to Harvest. "See you next year," I called as she walked away with her mom.

"Yeah!" She called.

One of the many Malfoy house elves had brought a broom for me to fly back on. The elf sat behind me, silent, as I flew. It was nearly dark by the time I reached Malfoy Mansion, and Lucius had apparently had a bad day.

"Those Mudbloods," he said to Narcissa. She had insisted that we all sit down as a family to celebrate my coming back from Hogwarts.

"They want to steal my job. The Minister isn't being harsh enough on them." Narcissa nodded.

Draco had grown in my absence, and I couldn't shake the growing feeling that he had done something to my chambers. I rushed up to my room after dinner, knowing that if I didn't want to be annoyed by Pureblood bigotry, I'd be in there all break long.

Thank gods that Draco hadn't changed my room one bit. I pulled Meatball out of my pocket and set him on the dresser. "Don't you dare get into any trouble," I told him sternly. Just in case, I set him in a tiny cage meant for the smallest owl possible; so small even he wouldn't be able to slip through the bars. He looked a little deflated after that.

I went to bed as happy as I could be, seeing as I was going to be stuck in Pureblood land all summer. Oh well. At least I could look forward to going back to Hogwarts next fall.

**And that, my friends, is the end of book one of "A Secret Protector." Thanks to all of the people who are reading this and leaving reviews. Zenith, as always, thank you so much! The second book should start soon, but it'll be a lot shorter. I have plans… **

**-docmuse.**


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